


Aftermath

by kurai_no_tenshi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Alternate Ending, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Mentions of previous major character death, Season 5 Episode 13, bbc merlin - Freeform, continued ending, diamond of the day, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurai_no_tenshi/pseuds/kurai_no_tenshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of season 5. What happens in the events leading directly after The Diamond of the Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the end of season 5, episode 13. Serious series spoilers ahead. Turn back now if you haven't finished the last episode yet or continue at your own risk!
> 
> I apologise for the vague summary, I wasn't sure what else to write that wouldn't be considered spoiler-esque to the not-caught-up viewer. And I'm sure there are enough of those floating around already. My take on what would have happened directly after the last episode, still in the Arthurian-era. In a way, I was almost hoping it would end like this - but in a strange, masochistic, heartbroken, and tortured way, I'm quite satisfied with how the show ended nonetheless.
> 
> Mentions of character death. Written mainly from Percival and Guinevere's point of view. No pairings. 
> 
> As this is my first work for this fandom (and on AO3 in general) I would love any reviews, comments, or suggestions that anyone has. The ending was a bit tricky - I knew what I wanted but I wasn't exactly sure how to phrase it so that it worked in the exact way I wanted it to. But nevertheless, I hope you enjoy.

 It had been days since they'd heard anything. And they still hadn't heard anything.

That is, not until Percival returned to Camelot a day later, bearing grim news.

The duration of the announcement had been far too long and tedious, even for how short it took to deliver the message; the news bearing down on everyone in the room. Broken hearts. Tearing eyes. And even tear stained faces filling every corner. Guinevere had to force herself not to break down – not to show any signs of weakness while Leon's voice rang throughout the throne room, finally letting everyone learn the news of the King's fate. After all, if the Queen was not strong, then the people would lose all hope. More than they surely already had, devastated as they all were at their loss.

No, now was the time for her to sit tall. Steadfast. And while the pain was not at all lost on her face, even as the cries of 'Long Live the Queen!' rang out, she did not break.

Her initial time of mourning had come when Percival had made his way back, a heavy weight upon his heart. Not only because of the King, but also for Gwaine.

He wouldn't tell them exactly what had happened. Unwilling not only to recall, but also to put an even heavier load upon the others. One that he much preferred to shoulder himself; perhaps to relieve the others of an even more incredible burden than they already possessed. He'd never let anyone know about it, though. Concealing his emotions had always been a part of who Percival was. And even after all this loss, it still wouldn't change. Someone had to be strong for the rest in this time of need. And neither Arthur, nor Gwaine, nor even Merlin was here to do it. So he would.

Still, that didn't stop the flood of inquiries from the others. And after delivering the news of Arthur – eventually other questions would arise.

He'd not bothered with the more extensive ones though; some things were just better off not knowing. Only given the basic information he'd carried.

King Arthur was dead. Sir Gwaine was dead. Morgana was dead.

And Merlin wasn't coming back.

All of this weighed heavy on their hearts. Not only after the initial message, but also in the throne hall. It was no wonder no one smiled that day.

Granted, of course after a time, people were going to get restless. Even as the weeks passed by, the pain refused to dull, and more knowledge was needed – even demanded.

It was only then that Percival revealed the rest.

Arthur had gone peacefully, Merlin at his side until the very end. He'd been given a proper sendoff. Gwaine had gone at the side of a friend. And Morgana had died by Arthur's sword.

Merlin hadn't revealed who'd dealt the final blow, though. But it wasn't too hard to tell. From what Gaius had informed them of days earlier, Arthur was far too wounded to even travel, let alone slay the high priestess.

Even after it all, Merlin still wouldn't take any credit for himself. It seemed he had all that he had ever needed, but at the same time was now lacking more than ever. A part of the servant had died when Arthur did, and there was nothing that anyone could do to rectify that. You could say that time heals all wounds, but honestly, some things cut so deep that they refused to ever stop hurting. All that could be done was to let time pass and hope that eventually, the deep sting would soften. The memory and pain would always be there, but not so sharp. And not so overbearing.

And maybe, someday, Merlin would be able to find it in himself to come back to Camelot again. But until then, the very last thing Percival would have thought of doing would have been to force him. Merlin didn't need that. Merlin needed time. And more than anything else, Merlin knew what Merlin needed. He had no right to attempt something that may proceed to help him further.

Luckily for him, no one had asked how he'd come by this information. Perhaps they'd assumed. Perhaps they really didn't think it mattered.

But Gaius had a right to know; the young man had been his ward, after all. And so he told him what he'd told to no one else.

In his search to track down Morgana before she'd be able to get to Arthur, instead what he'd found was her body, stabbed and laid on the ground, lifeless. And for a moment, he found a glimmer of hope, shining out from everything else. But not long after he'd found it did it disappear at the sight of Merlin, walking back in that direction, tear-streaked face bearing the news before he'd even noticed Percival was there, let alone let the words pass from his lips. He didn't need to, though. It was more than obvious that he'd suffered enough. But regardless, Merlin still managed to choke out a few words,

“It was – peaceful. The proper sendoff. Like he always deserved.”

The servant's voice had choked more than once while stuttering out, and that was all that Percival needed to know. Really, the other male hadn't needed to say anything at all, but he'd deemed it necessary, and the last thing the knight wanted to do was interrupt him.

It was only until later that he'd understood why he had.

It was far more than obvious that Merlin didn't feel that Percival needed to stay while he set about to work, only that he was going to, and nothing was said against it. But after the larger had noticed what exactly it was that Merlin was doing, he immediately set out to help. For all he knew, it would take hours for the little guy to complete the task. Especially considering how distraught he was.

Eventually, the final stone had been set, effectively marking the grave for the high priestess.

The grave was a bit petty, really, but given the distinct lack of supplies, it was all that could be managed at that moment in time. And Merlin didn't seem particularly inclined to go get something, even if supplies wouldn't have been a two or more days journey back to Camelot.

Percival might have even said that the grave wasn't necessary, given Morgana had been their enemy for as long as he could remember, but felt no right to do so and lacked all motivation to. Clearly the other felt that it was necessary. Just because he couldn't understand it didn't mean that there wasn't a reason. After all, from what he'd been told, Morgana hadn't always been the enemy. She'd been their friend for the longest time. Perhaps Merlin felt indebted to her in some way. Something that had never had the chance to be rectified.

It really wasn't his place to question it.

But upon this, he remembered that there was definitely something he himself needed to do as well. Something that he was sure he would have earlier, had he not been distracted. The need to make sure Morgana never reached their King had taken precedence.

He'd stood to leave, watching him to see if the servant would be following him or not, not quite willing to break their silence. They'd both been unusually quiet – especially Merlin.

But it certainly wasn't as if that was unexpected.

Percival had reluctantly, eventually left to go find his horse so that he could make his stop before heading back to Camelot, but couldn't help glancing back as he did so.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, really. Perhaps for the smaller man to follow him. But whatever it was, it wasn't to see the other finally, slowly, walking away. There was no mistaking the look on his face. Nor the direction he was headed – or perhaps the direction he _wasn't_ headed.

Merlin wouldn't be coming back with him to Camelot.

He wouldn't be coming back at all. Certainly not any time soon.

The realisation dawned on him, and Percival couldn't help his lips forming into a small frown.

Not that it wasn't expected. He should have expected it. Especially given everything. But that didn't mean he was going to like it all the same.

With one last look, he watched the other go. Walking away. Headed wherever it was that he was. Only sparing one glance back at Percival.

And with that small, attempt at a hopeful smile beaming back at him through sad eyes, Percival let him go. Watched until Merlin faded from view. And he hadn't seen him since.

He'd only made it about half way by nightfall, forced to turn in for the night as the cold picked up and his horse grew tired. But at first light he was on his way once again, and didn't rest again until he reached where he'd been not long before.

Gwaine had been right where he'd left him, and without resting, Percival repeated what they'd done for Morgana. Making a suitable grave for him, save the sword and his cloak – he'd bring that back to the others. Along with the horse, amazingly still there, though a ways off from where he'd left it as it had gone searching for food and water.

Only then did he finally make his return to Camelot.

Gaius accepted the information given to him with a solemn nod, understanding. He'd always been the easiest one to trust. To tell things to. And the best part about Gaius was, well, he was just that. Trustworthy. Any secrets you told him were certain to be kept.

Months passed, and though the mood of the citizens had increased dramatically, the air of the castle was still sullen. They'd moved past it, though. All of them. Despite the dull and occasionally sharp pain that continued to poke at everyone's side. Especially Guinevere's.

There was no doubt that losing the King had had an effect on them all, but no one could say with uncertainty that the Queen was the one who had suffered the most of them all.

She not only lost her King, but also her husband, her lover, and her dearest friend.

But despite that, there was something she now knew that she must do. Arthur had never had the chance. And after talking it over with Gaius, the physician seemed as sure as she did that Arthur would have wanted this as much as she.

It wasn't easy, mind you. The process took months. Guinevere had to talk it over with Leon. With the other Knights. This would be much easier if she could get their support on her side than without, and they were much more open to reason and being swayed by her rationale. They all agreed, eventually. Now the main problem was swaying the Council of Elders.

When it'd first been brought up, there was immediate disagreement. That was to be expected, of course. They were there to talk and give different viewpoints, after all. But Guinevere did now have the final say. And though most were reluctant, eventually the Council agreed with her reasoning.

It was settled then. And a year to the date of Arthur's passing, Guinevere stood upon the balcony of the castle, overlooking the land and the mass of people that were before her. Leon stood by the door to the outside not far away from her, and she spared one last glance back at him for reassurance before finally speaking out.

“After months of consideration by myself and the Council, we have come to an ultimate agreement.”

Call it a tribute, perhaps. Or maybe – maybe even an invitation, a notice to be sent out. Though there was certainty that some citizens would declare this moment an insult to King Arthur's memory. But they didn't really know the full story. After learning the truth that day in the throne room, Guinevere knew that this was something she must do.

Never again would a war be allowed to wage for the same reason as the one that had killed her husband. Never again would people have to run away in fear for who they were. Never again would she allow this disastrous chain of events to occur.

No one else deserved to go through the pain that they all had been through. The cycle had to stop. And now that she had the ability – she'd be the one to stop it.

“From this day forward, magic is once again allowed within the lands of Camelot.”


End file.
